


The Claiming

by TammyRenH



Category: Supernatural
Genre: ABO, Alpha Dean Winchester, Alpha Sam Winchester, Angst, Dubious Consent, Forced Turning, M/M, Mpreg, Omega Sam Winchester, Public Claiming, Rough Sex, but he consents to Dean claiming him, in the sense that Sam was unwillingly turned into an Omega
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-09
Updated: 2018-11-09
Packaged: 2019-08-20 21:54:52
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 8
Words: 12,380
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16563824
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TammyRenH/pseuds/TammyRenH
Summary: When Sam saves Dean rather than killing Michael, the hunters from the tear decide that he no longer deserves to be a leader, or an Alpha.  Through magical means, two of the others painfully change Sam from an Alpha to an Omega.  There is a claiming competition where several Alphas fight for the right to claim Sam, but at the last moment Dean (and Baby) come in and save the day - but he still has to claim Sam, or someone else will.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I want to thank my artist darklittleheart for the gorgeous art, and my life saver beta who so quickly checked my work for me wincest_whore, all remaining mistakes are my own.

 

 

It was the foul taste in his mouth that woke Sam up. That, and the sadly familiar feel of his feet and his hands being bound.

He had been kidnapped.

Again.

Sam kept perfectly still, kept his breathing even and his eyes closed. He fought through the fog that still clogged his brain to try to figure out where he was and what had happened.

The fuzziness in his head that stubbornly lingered told him he had been drugged, but thankfully whatever he had been dosed with was wearing off. The foul taste in his mouth was a gag, probably made of cloth and not exactly clean cloth at that. His feet and hands were bound with some kind of rope, and whoever had knotted the rope knew what they were doing. The hard surface underneath him was a floor, so he was inside. He could hear breathing in the room; breathing shallow and unsteady indicating he was not alone and that the person in the room with him was awake. The faint smell of perfume indicated that his companion was probably a woman.

“I know you are awake.” The woman said, confirming his suspicion. “You might as well open your eyes, so we can get on with it.”

Getting on with it didn’t sound the least bit enticing, but Sam opened his eyes anyway.

He was in a small room, maybe used as some sort of storage space. There were shelves above his head, a broom to his side. A janitor’s closet maybe, but the dust and the spider webs indicated it had gone unused for quite a bit of time. Sam tilted his head up, so he could see who his captor was.

He unconsciously inhaled in shock when he recognized her, regretting it immediately as the foul taste of the gag invaded his mouth, causing him to sputter and cough.

“So, you are probably wondering why you are here.” Claire said, not Claire – not the budding hunter that lived with Jodi but the one that had come over from the other side, the one that had grown up tough and alone and with a chip on her shoulder a mile wide. Sam had tried to befriend her, but it had been in vain. She was a loner and had taken off almost immediately after Dean had returned to them. Sam hadn’t seen her in a month. He was very surprised that she had come back to – what? – tie him up?

“I’m going to get Turner,” Claire-the-other said to Sam, “He’ll be better at explaining what is about to happen.”

Turner. Another person from the other side, but without a counterpart here - that Sam knew of anyway. He had been some sort of elected official there, and he hadn’t liked Sam being in charge over here. Sam purposely sent him away on as many missions across the country as he could. When he was in the bunker, he tended to stir up the others, and not in a good way. Sam hadn’t known he was back. As Claire exited the closet, Sam tried to remember where he had been before he was taken.

He had been with Cas and Dean at a bar, mainly just to get away from the noise and the confusion always pervasive in the bunker. Dean had been unhappy that Sam had let so many strangers live in the bunker and wanted them gone. The three of them were trying to come up with a plan to relocate them. “Just give them the boot,” was Dean’s unhelpful advice, when Sam had received a text from this Claire, telling him that his presence was requested for a meeting. The others were always meeting – to divvy up household chores, to gripe about who used all the hot water, to form and re-form teams, to discuss the best strategy for defeating Michael once and for all both here and where they still considered home. The meetings were tedious and repetitive, and Sam hadn’t wanted to go.

But somewhere along the line, without even meaning to, he had taken the role of their leader and he felt obligated.

“No way in Hell,” was Dean’s response to Sam asking them to accompany him. “I’ve had enough of the blah-blah-ing and boo-hoo-hoo-ing. I’m gonna kick back some more beers with Cas here and then maybe head to an all-night diner for the greasiest food I can find. You can ignore those assholes and come join us or go play keeper of the asylum – it’s up to you.”

Sam went. One of the others - Sam’s secret Lost-inspired name for those that had come through the rift - had come to the bar to pick him up and they had entered the bunker around 8:30 or so. He had opened the door and then –

blank.

They must have either hit him on the head or stuck a needle in his arm. Either way his world had gone black until he woke up here.

Sam tried to guestimate how long he had been out. If Dean stayed at the bar until around 11 – then found a diner to hang out for a while until he was sure the meeting was over – he might be back at the bunker around one or so. Surely it was later than that, which meant Dean was already looking for him.

Unless of course Dean went straight to bed, thinking that Sam had already went to his room for the night. Then it would be morning. Unless Dean assumed Sam was in the war room, making plans with the others in the morning, who Dean avoided at all costs then it would be –

“I was beginning to think I gave you too much,” Turner said, as he opened the door. He stood in front of Sam, forcing Sam to twist his head in a very awkward way to see his face. “It’s hard to judge with a man your size.”

Sam tried speaking around the gag, which was an unpleasant experience, to indicate he wanted the gag off.

“Yeah, yeah.” Turner bent down, shining a bright light into Sam’s eyes. Sam closed them reflectively, then forced them open again. No way he was going to show any weakness around this small man.

Small literally and figuratively. Turner was maybe 5’5”, and he had what Sam thought of as Napoleon syndrome – he shouted, and he puffed, and he swelled himself up with importance and was in every way smug and irritating.

It was more than a little humiliating that he had gotten the drop on Sam.

Sam made grunting noises again. It was the only way he could communicate, trussed up like he was.

“Okay, yes, I get it.” Turner said irritably, turning off the flashlight thank heavens. “I will take it off in just a minute, but first I have something I need to explain to you, and I need you quiet, so you can hear every word. I’m about to explain why you are here.”

Claire reentered the room, she had scissors in her hand, and a vial. Sam began to feel unease replacing some of his irritation.

“So, we take leadership very seriously where we come from. Very seriously,” Turner informed him, intonation reminding Sam of a teacher he had in fifth grade that was forever talking down to her students, like every one of them had brains sloughed with molasses. “For instance, I was governor of my little territory, and I was diligent about my duties. I took care of my constituents. I fought the good fight alongside them. I did not back down from Michael. In fact I went after him with a willing and sacrificial spirit.”

Sam rolled his eyes.

Turner stood back up, clearly agitated, and took the scissors from Claire. “And that there – that attitude Sam, that is why you will never be the kind of leader I was. In fact, you are no kind of leader at all. When you had a chance to end Michael once and for all, you saved your brother instead and you ran like a scared little kid all the way back to the safety of the bunker. You chose your happiness over duty. You don’t deserve the title of leader anymore, not that you ever truly did.”

Okay whatever, if they didn’t want his leadership, they could pick up all their marbles and go home. Sam couldn’t convey that sentiment in words, so he let his bitch face do all the talking for him.

“There was a meeting, earlier today. And a vote, because where I am from, we believe in democracy. We cherish it in fact. We also cherish justice, quick, divisive, fair. An Alpha that cannot lead is no kind of Alpha at all.” Turner smiled, in fact it was the biggest smile in Sam’s direction that he had ever given. “Which is why it was the decision of our council that you will no longer be an Alpha. Sam Winchester, I have been authorized by the council to turn you into what appears to be your innate nature. I am turning you into an Omega.”

 


	2. Chapter 2

 

If Sam could, he would have snorted. There was no way to turn Alphas into Omegas.

Back in the 50’s there had been a rumor that if two Alphas had sex, one of them – the receiver as it were – would turn into an Omega. It was the purist’s way of keeping Alphas from mating. Since Alphas couldn’t procreate, they didn’t see any purpose for them to have sex. However, as more and more Alphas mated it became crystal clear that having a dick in your ass, or being the giftee of oral sex, did not turn you into an Omega. Nothing could.

Turner bent back down again with the scissors held purposely in his hand. Sam’s fight or flight reflex was in high gear, but with his hands and feet tied, and in that small tight space, he was unable to do anything but watch as Turner held the scissors over his shirt.

“I can tell you don’t believe me, but that’s okay. You will,” he continued in that smug obnoxious voice of his. “The process has already started. That shot we gave you back in the bunker, it had several things in it. A sedative of course. And a muscle relaxer, which you are going to appreciate in just a few minutes. Oh, also the essence of a special plant, one we haven’t been able to find over here. You are a special boy Sam, we had just enough left for one small dose, and we chose to give it you.”

Villains and their monologues. That was okay, he could let him keep up the crazy talk until Dean arrived. Which would be any minute now.

“This spell is ancient. The words are passed down from generation to generation. Its basis is no language we’ve been able to discern. The markings are unique too. Heavy magic in them, the potency of them just seeps into your skin.”

Turner used the scissors to push Sam’s shirt up. Sam couldn’t see what he was looking at, but Claire was studying the area intently.

“Are you sure we got them right?” she asked.

Turner snorted in return. “The proof, as they say, is in the pudding. And if we are going to finish in time for the claiming, we will need to begin.”

Turner reached toward Sam’s face with the scissors, and Sam instinctively pushed away, his back hitting something small and sharp behind him. But Turner just cut off the gag, it took Sam a few seconds to get moisture back in this mouth before he could begin to speak.

“Look, before this gets out of hand, If I were you, I’d take this opportunity to make a run for it because my brother is on his way here –

He was so intent on Turner, that he had forgotten all about the non-Claire (and when did he get so careless?) and almost choked when she poured the contents of the vial in his open mouth. It was almost as foul as the gag, and Sam coughed and sputtered, feeling some of the slimy liquid creep down his throat.

“Was it enough?” Claire asked. “He spit so much of it out.”

“Look, this is getting – “ Sam began, but Turner just shoved the gag right back in his open mouth. Damn, he was really losing his touch.

“I’d offer to unzip your pants, but you’d probably freak.” Sam began to try to scoot his bound body further back at those words. Turner held his hand out in surrender. “It would help to release the pressure that you will be feeling shortly, nothing more. I give my word to you as an Alpha, no one is going to touch you until the claiming. It’s important you come to the claiming pure, well as pure as possible in your situation. Plus, I am not about to allow myself to be attacked by a newly mated Alpha who smells you on me. I didn’t last this long by being careless.”

Sam was still puzzling out possibilities as to what the pressure would be when Claire turned off the light. The room was pitch dark until two small candles were lit.

“We need to hurry. They have already begun the claiming competition,” Turner went on. “It’s why we are here. They are at the old football field, way more Alphas showed up than what we expected. I guess a lot more people than we realized relish the thought of a Winchester on his knees. Your screaming might - complicate things, so we should be far enough away we can perform the ritual in relative peace.”

Claire was drawing something on the concrete floor. The lights were flickering, creating dark shadows of his kidnappers’ faces. “I am afraid this is going to hurt a little.”

Sam’s last thought before the low hum of a chant began, was that Turner didn’t look afraid at all. He looked joyful.

If they were chanting words, they were not words that Sam had ever heard before. He watched as the hastily drawn symbol on the ground began to pulse and glow and in his abdomen he felt – something, something like movement and a low level of heat. It wasn’t pain, at least not pain like Sam was used to experiencing, but irritation and a tenseness of his muscles that had him on edge. The feeling seemed to grow as the symbol on the ground began to pulse harder, colors vibrating, and the chanting turned up in volume. The movements in his stomach flirted with pain, a hint of sharpness and then the feeling was descending, down to his lower belly, and further down and then –

The symbol seemed to actually lift up off the floor as Turner stood dramatically, almost shouting now, hands raised. Claire stayed bowed, her humming of the words much quieter, more intense. As Sam focused on the expression of almost ecstasy on Turner’s face, the symbol flared and then disappeared and then –

Pain. Intense stabbing indescribable pain pinpointed on his groin - on it, in it, around it. Sam had experienced intense pain before of course, heck by now – after Lucifer – he was a black belt in dealing with it but this – centered on this one area, an area so vulnerable, so sensitive. He could feel the fabric of his boxers press against his cock, and the pain was coming in surges, one after the other, each one more intense. Sam looked up at Turner who was grinning maniacally at him when another intense push of pain almost lifted Sam, even tied up as he was, off the ground.

His head fell against the floor with a thud and the pain followed - there was a white-out blast of pain and then –

Sam slowly became aware of his surroundings. He was lying on something hard, but no longer on the ground. He flexed his fingers and realized they were no longer tied behind him. He sat up and winced at a small wash of pain. He was sitting on what appeared to be a gurney. He was in small room, one door, no windows. He realized with a start and a flare of anger that he wasn’t wearing the clothes he was captured in, but a white tunic and pants.

He knew what this was.

Omega clothes.

That thought quickly brought a remembrance of the pain and Sam moved his hands down to his clothed pelvic region. There was only a hint of pain, like a pale memory of the real thing. Slowly, carefully, he felt the region with the tips of his fingers. And then, shocked, he untied the drawstring and looked inside.

First thought was that he wasn’t wearing underwear.

The seccond was, this wasn’t his penis.

It was smaller, less thick – noticeable so, unbelievably so. And – although he would have to be aroused for the knot to fully form and he was anything but – there was no bulge at the base, no sign of a knot waiting to form.

He pulled back so fast that it was only his trained quick reflexes that kept him from falling off the gurney.

He scrambled up off the gurney and forced himself not to look again. Not to panic.

So, it was changed. So, his knot was gone. He had never felt defined by his knot anyway. He’d be the same guy he’s always been – he would just be a Beta. That was fine, Dean had always teased that he was practically a Beta anyway since he always wanted to talk things out rather than fight; a research nerd like him would be a great Beta.

It would be okay.

He just had to get out of here.

He tried the door, but of course it was locked. He tried banging on it a few times before giving it up as a lost cause.

Without windows, the only hope was if there was a weakness in one of the walls, an indication that a window had been plastered over, or another door. Sam began methodically checking the walls. He was halfway through the wall opposite the door when Turner walked in.

“So, are you ready to accept that you are an Omega?” Turner asked. He had another flask in hand, Claire was at his heels. “Or will be one very soon, we do have one more ritual we need to complete.”

“I accept that you are a dick that changed my –“ Sam began then shook his head. No way was he stooping to their level. Instead he took a deep breath, straightened his back and said in as a steady voice as he could make it. “My knot doesn’t define my Alphaness,” Sam said instead, his back to the wall. Watching as Turner set candles, a flask, and a marker down. Claire took the marker and dropped to the floor. Watching her draw on the white wall in front of her, Sam felt a deep ache for the real Claire.

“There would be many Alphas that would argue that point,” Turner replied, chuckling. “But that’s not the only change, is it Sam?”

Sam was watching as Claire drew the symbol. Maybe if he memorized it, there would be some way to reverse this when Dean saved him. “I have no idea what you are talking about,” he snarled in Turner’s direction.

“We’ve been in here oh – “ Turner made a big production of looking at his watch, “Two minutes and you haven’t made one attempt to attack us, to fight us off, to get to the door.”

Sam startled, heart racing as he realized that was true. What the hell was wrong with him?

Sam flexed his fingers and took a few steps toward Turner. He was a foot taller than Turner, he should feel confident and strong, but with every step Sam was fighting a desire to curl into himself. Everything felt wrong - facing Turner this way, the clothes, the overall itchy feeling that seemed to dwell within him.

“Come on big guy.” Turner faced him squarely. “Show me what you’ve got.”

Sam forced himself to rush the last few steps, hands out to push Turner out of his path. He just had to get to the door, find Dean, fix this – this – whatever this was.

Turner grabbed his hand and then twisted it. Sam felt an unreasonable amount of pain for such a small action. He also realized that his other hand was pushing against Turner’s shoulder with no impact at all. Turner turned his wrist further and Sam found himself, unbelievably but with seemingly no ability to stop himself, sinking to his knees.

“Right where you belong,,” Turner grinned. “I’d demonstrate more, but we’ve got to get this show on the road. They are down to their last dozen contenders. This last part is going to take maybe 2 or 3 hours. We should be timed just about right. Not that there was any doubt, I’ve always been a master of timing.”

Sam pulled his hand back from Turner with considerable effort and just barely stopped himself from cradling it. The room was spinning, a pounding in his ears, the itching in his skin was intensifying and Sam realized it was that stupid symbol, that was affecting him this way.

“Are we ready Claire?” Turner asked, handing her one of the candles.

“I’ve never seen this part before,” Claire breathed. “Will it really form in just a few hours?”

“Watch and see.” Turner turned back toward Sam. “I am going to have to insist that you get back on the gurney Sam. We will have to tie you down, it’s for your own safety. The good news is – this is the last part, well the last painful part anyway. The actual process takes a few weeks, ends in your first heat and that doesn’t happen until after the claiming. But this part -well if you found the other process painful, this will be- “Turner stopped and waved his hand airily on his way to the light switch. “A whole othe level.”

Something was wrong with him, really it was. There was no way he should be standing up, walking obediently to the gurney where Claire waited. It was that damn symbol, it was the drugs, this blind obedience wasn’t him. As soon as the drugs wore off, he would – he would get out of here. He would get back to the bunker, kick every last one of the others out, just like Dean wanted. He just had to get through this – this – whatever this was.

He must have blanked out, because before he was aware of what was happening, his hands and ankles were restrained, and the lights were off again. He could see the symbol from where he was, every pulse of the symbol was echoed by the itchy pushing feeling in his stomach, like he had accidentally swallowed fire ants.

The chanting was different this time, but the words were just as obscure. Sam tried to concentrate, he really needed to remember the words, but his focus kept going back to the symbol, watching it shimmer and pulse and waver and vibrate and – itchy feeling inside, scratching, like something trying to get out. Chanting was louder – listen to the words Sam, you must remember the words, and the symbol was so bright that it rendered the candles useless, it seemed to be reaching for him – grabbing at him – and then it flared bright and –

Pain.

Pain and someone was screaming and something inside of him – something deep inside of him – was sticking knives everywhere – trying to get out or trying to get in or tearing him apart bit by bit in his deepest being and –

Something being shoved in his mouth, his tunic being pulled up and someone gasping, laughter.

Pain.

More white light pain and knives and Dean – where was Dean – De –

And Darkness. Blessed, beautiful darkness.


	3. Chapter 3

 

 

Sam woke up abruptly, in a panic, fighting to sit up before realizing his hands and feet were still bound.

His insides felt like fire, scratchy, wrong.

“And right on time too.” Claire’s voice came from his right side, startling him. He pulled again on the restraints.

“Yes, they are coming off.” Claire cooed. “They are almost ready for you outside. It’s the last 4 contenders fighting. You should be proud Sam, over 50 Alphas showed up in all. Impressive really, considering the short notice. I was checking the stats for when claimings were held regularly here, that number is almost unheard of. Especially with an Omega so old.” Claire released his left ankle and ran her fingers lightly over his bare feet as she went to release the other one. “And so big.”

“Not an Omega.” Sam murmured. He hadn’t realized until just that moment that he was no longer gagged. Whatever this ritual was, it was causing him to really slip. He felt like he was moving though quicksand, his brain so much slower than it normally was, his reflexes he realized as he just lay passively and let her release him, were non-existent.

“Well the uterus that now resides inside you begs to differ,” Claire said calmly, reaching for her phone and texting someone, presumably Turner.

Sam’s unbound hands immediately went to his stomach. There was no denying the shape of it had changed. The tight ab muscles were gone, his stomach felt soft. When he pushed in tentatively, pain radiated from within and he pulled back his hand quickly.

“I wouldn’t do that if I were you, “Claire warned. “It isn’t fully formed yet, but don’t worry everything should be in working order by your first heat.”

Claire received a text, answered back. Sam realized he needed to formulate an escape plan, but he felt weak, much weaker than he had been in a long time. He wasn’t sure he could walk, much less fight.

“And there is the man of the hour,” Turner announced, all boisterous enthusiasm, his loud voice sending sharp shards of pain through Sam’s skull. “What’s that I smell?” Turner stepped closer, sniffing the air like a dog chasing a scent. “Freshly turned Omega, no better scent.”

Turner was carrying handcuffs, and Sam began to tense. “Sorry kid, I have to make sure you don’t disappear on me before the big event,“ Turner said, placing one on Sam’s wrists. Sam knew he should be fighting him, but his brain and his body were definitely not on speaking terms. In fact, his body was already cooperating, letting his other hand be drawn behind his back, his wrists handcuffed together.

That’s okay. He had gotten out of handcuffs many times. Once his strength got back, he was going to find a way to escape.

“Okay, and we are on our way.”

Sam was right about his legs, they barely worked. He stumbled more than once as he was led out of the old abandoned school. It was dark out, and Sam almost walked into a post before Claire jerked him around it. He could hear loud noises coming from somewhere not far away. Chanting and cheering, the sound of a crowd enjoying a show.

A claiming.

Claimings were a thing of the past for the most part. There were a few traditionalist groups scattered here and there, some rural communities still had hush-hush claimings, but mainly Omegas weren’t subject to this anymore. A claiming involved a group of Alphas in a no-holds barred wrestling match, trying to determine who was the strongest and the worthiest to claim the Omega. Injuries were common, death less so but not out of the realm of possibility. The winner of the final match claimed the Omega, then and there. The Omega had no choice in the matter.

There were laws against this kind of thing now, but still it happened. And the sad fact was, once the Omega was claimed it was biologically impossible for them to turn against their mate. Police would come, ask if the mating was mutual and the Omega would always state it was. It was why it still happened. The Alphas got to let out a lot of aggression and win themselves an Omega and the Omegas – well everyone knew that Omegas were only good for sex and for procreation – no one cared what they thought about the ritual.

And now he was one.

Or so they kept saying.

Whatever that spell was, whatever that spell did, there was no denying it changed him. And there was no denying he was in a hell of a lot of trouble. He was led to a riser where there was a podium, metal chairs lined up in a row with some of the others seated, all staring maliciously at him, and the platform clearly intended for the claiming.

Fuck this. He wasn’t an Omega. Maybe no longer an Alpha. Maybe a Beta. But he was still him, still Sam, and if anyone tried to force him down, tried to mate him, he’d tear off their knots with his teeth.

Sam knew the others were expecting a sniveling cowardly mess, so he shrugged Claire’s hand off his arm and stood at the end of the riser with his back straight, his head held high. Lucifer couldn’t break him - none of these small, small people stood a chance.

 

So focused was Sam on ignoring how freaked he was that he didn’t even see Garth until he was at his side. Garth’s face was a mess, and he was limping.

“Sorry Sam, I tried,” Garth said through his bruised and battered lips. “Got knocked out in the third round, literally. Woke up like fifteen minutes ago.”

“It’s okay Garth.” Sam turned to him. “Have you seen Dean? Heard from him?”

Garth looked Sam up and down before he spoke. “Man, they really did it. When we arrived, and we found out it was you – I just thought no way. No way were they going to mess with a Winchester. Plus, you are both Alphas and everyone knows you can’t change your designation but wow Sam you really are an Omega.”

“That’s what they keep telling me.” Sam looked with disinterest at the fight going on below him. He didn’t know either one of the two Alphas, well maybe one was a hunter he’d seen around once or twice, he couldn’t be sure. Didn’t matter. They weren’t touching him.

“Usually they don’t let Betas compete in these things, but I yelled about discrimination and so –“ Garth shrugged. “Didn’t work anyway, but I had to try.”

“So, you called Dean, right?” Sam asked Garth, no longer even casually watching the match below, tuning out the shouts and jeers going around him. “Is he here yet?”

Garth reached up and awkwardly patted his arm. “Sam, I don’t think he’s coming. They sent him and Cas on some wild goose chase up to the East coast, planted all kinds of false leads. These people have been hiding from angels for years, they know how to misdirect. They confiscated all our phones when we got here, no one has been able to leave until the claiming. I wish I could help you – “

So, it was him and Garth against dozens that were hell bent on seeing him claimed. Fuck those odds.

“The final match. Max vs Alexandria. The winner claims the Omega,” the announcer was saying. “Let’s begin.”

Sam needed a plan and he needed one quick. His mind raced through and discarded several possibilities. What he needed was one hell of a distraction. What he needed was Dean.

Just when he was about to ask Garth for something sharp to get the damn handcuffs off, several things happened at once. The fight had to be a quick one, because they were declaring Max, whoever the hell he was, the winner and then Turner was beside him, trying to force him to the platform and Sam stood firm ready to fight. There was a familiar roar and Baby was scattering the crowd as it drove straight though, right up to where that Max guy stood lifting his hands in victory and then Max was flying, soaring up in the air and then he crumpled to the ground

Dean got out of the car and walked over to Max. The crowd was completely quiet as Dean bent down and checked Max’s pulse.

“Alive but he’s out cold.” Dean stood up and Sam felt something different stirring inside of him as he looked at Dean, all swagger and deceptive calmness as he looked up at Turner. “I guess that means I just won myself an Omega.”.


	4. Chapter 4

 

They were talking just a few feet away from Sam. Talking about him, but not too him.

Something was itching inside of Sam, something new and foreign and a bit scary. Something that wanted to be closer to Dean, that wanted Dean to touch him. It was almost as unnerving as being talked about as if he wasn't there.

“I won him fair and square,” Max said to Turner. He was a little worse for wear and was favoring his right side with every step he took but seemed to be otherwise intact. “I say we get on with the claiming, time is wasting and if this guy wanted a chance to win, he should have arrived earlier. The competition was over. Plus, the use of cars is clearly illegal.”

“Show me where it says that,” Dean demanded, smug smile on this face, standing legs splayed, all cocky attitude. “Because we all know there is only one rule to claiming and that rule is the last one standing wins. And I was the last one standing. But hell, I am willing to fight you. If you think you can take me –“

“The hell with this.” Sam could feel his anger building. He was through being talked about. “And I get to decide who I am going home with and I say-"

Turner was frowning. He had the dirty gag from - was it yesterday? This morning? - in his hand. “Sorry Sam, but Omegas were meant to be seen and – “

Sam lifted one of his legs and kicked with everything that he still had in him, leaning back against Garth to retain his balance. It wasn’t as strong as it would have been before this whole ordeal started, but he was still Sam and still a Winchester and the kick knocked Turner off his feet. “Nobody is touching me. No one is claiming me. I am going home with Dean.”

Turner stood up, red faced and eyes flashing, and he took a few steps toward Sam before Dean grabbed his arm. “I wouldn’t if I were you.”

Turner shrugged Dean off. “This is all pointless. Max won, this Omega has nothing to say about it. “

“Listen dirtbag,” Dean snarled back, “I am already pissed that you kidnapped my brother. I am even more pissed that somehow you managed to magic him into being an Omega against his wishes and I am not even getting started about how pissed I am you were going to send me to fucking Delaware if Cas hadn’t gotten a message on angel radio – well let’s say that if you have any hope of getting out of here in one piece, and that hope is slight as it is, you will step away from me and my brother right the hell now.”

Turner hadn’t survived this far in either world by being stupid. He raised his hand in defeat and turned toward Max. “Fight him if you want, if not I’ll declare Dean as the winner.”

“Yeah Maxi,’ Dean said, taking off his jacket and letting it fall carelessly on a chair and rolling up his shirt sleeves. “Fight me if you want.”

Max looked at Dean, back to Sam and then turned toward to Turner. “He’s not worth it, as old and used up as he is. Dean can have him.”

“Gee thanks Max.” Dean patted Max’s shoulder deliberately hard, Sam watched as Max grimaced in pain. Dean then turned his back on Max, dismissing him, and turned toward Turner. “I’ll be taking my brother home now.”

“Sure thing,” Turner said to him as he walked up to the microphone to make an announcement. “Right after you claim him.”

“Fuck." Dean ran through his hand through his short hair and looked at Sam. “Sam, man, I can fight them one at a time, heck between us we could take 20 or so but – I don’t see any way we can make it back to the bunker unless we – I mean once we get back we’ll find a way to fix it but for right now – Sam, I’m sorry. If there was any way out of this – but they’ve got wards, Cas couldn’t even step foot on the school grounds, Mom and Jack are back at the bunker. It’s just us.”

“Us and Garth,” Sam interjected wryly. Outside he was trying to exude calm, both for his and Dean’s sake, but inside he was seriously freaking out. He had never been penetrated before and now – in front of everyone. And they all thought he was an Omega, even Dean, he could tell and – he just wanted to go back to the bunker, he just wanted to be home.

Turner was announcing that Dean was the winner of the competition. There were a lot of jeers and groans, but nobody offered to fight him for the title, his reputation obviously preceding him. Also, Sam realized that they thought this was what Sam deserved, being taken by his brother, having to live as his brother’s mate. They thought there wasn’t a worse fate out there for him. They didn’t know him, they sure as hell didn’t know Dean.

He had always loved and trusted his brother. And, if he was honest with himself – and as much as possible Sam had always tried to be honest with himself - right now there was something deep inside of him, something yearning for Dean. He had felt it the moment Dean had emerged triumphantly from the Impala, the feeling that Dean was his, the feeling that he was Dean's.

Fuck, he was really an Omega.

“Just do it,” Sam said to him. “We’ll figure it out later, figure out how to change me back but – just do it now so I can go home.”

Dean still looked concerned. “Are you sure Sam? Cause this isn’t something we get a do over with, once this thing happens – “

“If this has to happen, I want it to be you,” Sam insisted. “Out of everyone I know, everyone I've ever known, you are the only one I trust to do this."

“Okay,” Dean stood on his tiptoes and his lips brushed Sam's. It should feel awkward and weird but instead if felt warm and nice.

“Let’s do this thing.”


	5. Chapter 5

 

 

For such a large crowd, they had gone strangely silent. Turner was waiting by the bench, but just one glare from Dean and he was backing away, joining the other officials on the side of the riser. By the time they reached the bench, Sam could feel himself begin to shake.

“It’s okay Sammy,” Dean said, lips brushing his again. “I’m gonna take care of you.”

“I don’t think I can do this,” Sam whispered in return as Dean turned him around so that his back was toward the raised bench. Sam heard a familiar click, and the handcuffs fell to the ground.

“Sure, you can.” Dean told him, pulling him into a hug that was like the hundreds of other hugs they had exchanged in their lifetime, yet somehow different. He was more aware of Dean’s body, the contour of his hips, his pelvis pushing into his. He was also overwhelmed by the smell of Dean, earthy, tangy, with a hint of leather. “But before we do this, tell me this is what you want. If you want another Alpha, I’ll go get him – or her, if you want to go down fighting, I’m game for that too. Whatever you want Sammy.”

Sam bit his lip, looking down at his brother through his eye lashes. “Do you want this? I mean, I know Alpha/Omega sibling pairings are accepted, but it’s us. I know you’ve never thought of me this way – “

The crowd was getting a bit restless. Sam resolutely ignored them.

“Baby, I mean Sammy – “ Dean said, and then blushed a bit, and that blush had Sam relaxing just a little in response. “You told me how you felt when you met Jess, how immediately something in you wanted to claim her as yours, that you knew instinctively you were meant to be. Well something inside of me knew from the moment I saw you up here, that you were mine. I want you, in every way possibly because baby – I mean Sammy – you smell so damn good, you smell like a meadow, you smell like sunshine, you smell like mine.”

“Is there going to be a claiming or - ?” Not-Claire stepped into their space. Dean growled at her – a literal, ferocious growl and something in Sam puffed up.

“Get the fuck away from us,” Sam said to her, and then turned back toward Dean. “I want this too, so in the words of a very wise man - let's do this thing.”

“You are such a romantic, baby brother,” Dean teased, and then kissed him again before Sam could respond. There was nothing gentle about this kiss, it was hard, and he demanded entrance in Sam’s mouth with teeth and tongue and Sam’s senses were so overwhelmed that he almost felt like he was floating.

Dean’s hands went under his tunic, first rubbing circles around his belly button as the kiss continued, and then reaching up and tentatively rubbing one nipple. Sam arched into his touch, every bit of his body was still tender after the changing, and yet Dean’s touch brought sparks of arousal with every calloused pressing of his fingers. Dean grinned into the kiss and Sam huffed back.

The bench was high enough that Sam’s ass was touching it, and the pressure felt good. He lifted his arms when Dean tugged at his shirt, and Dean pulled it up and over his head, letting it fall carelessly to the ground. He barely noticed the cool air as Dean’s lips left his to lick Sam’s nipple and to gently, teasingly bite - a gentle nip that sent a shock of need through Sam’s system and Sam arched into Dean’s fingers again as Dean lightly pinched one nipple, then rubbed the other one. Sam hadn’t thought it would be possible, not with Dean, not here in front of this crowd, not with this foreign Omega body, but he was getting hard. His mind wasn’t quite on board with any of this, but his body – his body was responding to Dean’s touches.

Sam wrapped his arms around his brother, pulling him close so that his linen covered crotch was rubbing against Dean’s denim covered one. Dean moaned, and Sam felt a surge of satisfaction. Dean’s hands had left his nipples and were rubbing everywhere, reaching behind Sam and touching his back, hands headed lower. Sam could feel something growing inside of him, heat and – something else.

It was when Dean’s hands reached the waist band of those linen pants that Sam realized that something was wrong. He reached behind and pushed Dean’s hand away and drew back from him as he tried to figure out what the hell was going on down there. Tentatively he reached down and touched the seat of his pants. They were damp, just slightly, but definitely damp.

Oh.

Oh.

Sam felt himself blushing and lowered his head, feeling betrayed by this body that wasn’t his body. But Dean pulled Sam back to him by the drawstring of his pants. “None of that, Sam. Your body knows what it wants, let me give it to you.”

Sam nodded, just a bare hint of a nod but Dean knew what he was feeling. He tugged at the drawstring to the linen pants. “Off,” he ordered.

And Sam found himself pushing down his pants and stepping out of them. For a moment he stood naked, exposed, but Dean was pulling off his shirt, buttons flying as he impatiently yanked and Sam had never quite realized it before, but Dean was beautiful –

His chest was broad, and slightly shiny from exertion and Sam’s eyes followed his slight treasure trail down to the top of his jeans. When he lifted his eyes, Dean was smirking at him.

Jerk.

Sam wrapped his arms around himself, self-conscious about how much he had changed, but Dean pulled them apart, and then placed them behind Sam so that Sam was gripping the sides of the bench.

“Leave ‘em where I put ‘em,” he ordered, and Sam gripped the bench tighter, watching as Dean went down to his knees in front of him. A heady feeling of want coursed through him as he watched his brother lick his lips.

Sam was leaning against the bench and Dean pulled his legs apart so that he could slot between them. First, he rubbed the top of Sam’s legs and then he grinned up at Sam, that familiar shit-eating grin that Sam knew so well except this time it caused his heart to stop, then restart too quickly and Dean rubbed a hand over Sam’s crotch. Sam could feel Dean’s fingers as they rubbed against his cock, slight pressure, fingers almost skating over its length and Sam closed his eyes, willing to let this feeling of want and need drown him, take him under.

“Eyes on me Sammy.” Dean’s voice was gruff, and he was breathing harder. Sam opened them just in time to see Dean lean over, mouth so close to Sam's cock that he could feel his breath on it, hot and warm.

“Beautiful’ Dean whispered. And then he began a light stroke, from the top of Sam’s cock down to its throbbing end.

Sam didn’t want to look, not at this – appendage – that was so foreign, so different than it had been a day ago but somehow it didn’t feel so strange when he saw the way Dean looked at it, hunger clear in those crystal green eyes. Dean leaned closer and his tongue lightly licked down the same path his finger had been, and this time Sam felt it when fresh slick began forming and it was so wrong, so very wrong.

And so very right.

Dean’s tongue went down his length again, and then his mouth opened and Sam felt his tongue as Dean licked the top of his cock, felt the pressure as Dean sucked the tip in his mouth and it was everything that Sam could do not to lift up his hands, put them on the back of Dean’s head and thrust into that talented, wet mouth.

But after a few kitten licks, Dean stood up and Sam didn’t whine – of course he didn’t whine he was a Winchester after all – but he must have made a noise of disappointment because Dean chuckled as he unceremoniously unbuckled his belt and pulled off his pants. All thoughts of the loss of Dean’s mouth left Sam as he looked down Dean’s body. Dean stood proudly in front of the crowd, head back, chest out and his cock –

Long, and glistening with precum and slightly red and Sam could see the knot was already trying to form, if there was any doubt that Dean wanted him it was definitely gone now.

And if there was any doubt Sam wanted Dean, it was dispelled by the sheer amount of slick he was producing.

In a wave of disobedience, Sam moved his hands and used them to push himself up, swaying as he stood on unsteady legs for a moment. He then climbed up on the bench, thankfully a wide one, and then lowered his head. He was presenting, the classical Omega position and instead of shame he just felt need.

Dean moved behind him, hands rubbing his back and down to his ass and Sam wiggled just a little, just to get Dean a bit more riled and by the growl he got in response it had to have worked. Sam jolted as a hand landed against his ass cheeks. “Behave,” Dean ordered.

“You’d be disappointed if I did,” Sam retorted, words loud and clear cause fuck his audience.

Dean chucked. “Damn right I would be.”

It was a different kind of jolt when Dean’s fingers breached him, it felt uncomfortable and invasive and for a moment Sam felt his hard-on begin to flag. Dean was rubbing his hip with one hand as he gently pushed the finger in with the other.

Sam bit his lip as the finger retreated and was replaced with two. If his body couldn’t handle two fingers, he wasn’t sure how he was going to handle the real thing – and the knot – but he forced himself to try to relax. Dean’s hand on his hip was comforting and he tried to focus on that as two fingers became three and then Dean pushed against a spot deep inside of him and all feelings of discomfort fled.

Fuck.

“Do that again,” Sam requested, wiggling back in an attempt to force Dean’s fingers to that spot.

Dean chuckled. “Sure thing Sammy, but how about I use something a little bigger this time. Get ready.”

The fingers were gone and this time maybe Sam did whine at the empty feeling but hell, he had just discovered the magic of his prostate so he was allowed. A second later Dean’s cock was pressed against his hole.

This time Dean was whispering the words, “Once this starts, I don’t think I can be gentle.”

“I don’t want you to be,” Sam responded and when the tip of Dean’s cock breached him, he pushed back and forced the rest of Dean’s cock in with one rough push.

“Fuck,” Dean breathed. “God Sam, you feel so good.”

Sam was a bit too overwhelmed to speak, there was a little pain but mostly there was uncomfortable fullness. Too much, too soon and it was his fault but still – his body was practically thrumming it was so turned on by this, and he could feel his cock, pressed between his lower stomach and the bench, aching and leaking.

Dean pulled out and then thrust back in, so hard that Sam scooted several inches up, and had to use his hands to grip the sides of the bench so that he wouldn't be pushed off it.

“That’s right baby, hold on,” Dean responded, doing the same thing again – all the way out, in and then he was swirling his hips and damn fuck it all – rubbing against that sweet spot and Sam almost saw stars it was so damn intense. “You like that don’t you Sammy? I can tell.”

Sam tried to lift his head up then, but one of Dean’s hands left his hips where they had been grounding in and held his head down. Dean used this leverage to pound into Sam so hard that Sam couldn’t distinguish between what was pleasure and what was pain and what was pure ecstasy. In fact, his mind was short circuiting and all that remained was Dean and that feeling of being owned and being used and being Dean's.

Dean leaned over so that his front was almost touching Sam’s back as his thrusts got shorter but no less hard. “I’m about to knot you Sammy. I’m about to fill you up. Are you going to be a good boy huh? Are you going to let me in?”

Sam didn’t even realize he was close until his orgasm rushed over him, so intense that he must have blacked out for a moment because when he reopened his eyes, he could feel Dean’s teeth on his neck, lightly biting down and Dean’s knot catching on his rim as Dean pushed in, pulled out.

“Mine,” Dean whispered in his ear before his teeth bit down harder, not hard enough to claim but hard enough to hurt and in response Sam’s cock began to lightly twitch underneath him. “Mine,” Dean said louder, and his knot caught on Sam’s rim one more time before Dean snapped his hips forward and forced the knot inside and Sam was, ever how impossibly, hard again. “Mine,” Dean roared as his teeth finally sunk in, and Sam came a second time as Dean’s knot pulsed inside of him, filling him up.

He heard the crowd erupt in applause before he blacked out.


	6. Chapter 6

 

****

 

**Two weeks later**

Sam was so deep into the ancient book of transformation and transfusion he was reading, that Dean’s voice startled him.

Dean put a sandwich and a glass of milk by Sam. Sam made a face and pushed it back, returning his attention to the book. Dean reached over and pulled the book out of Sam’s hand, carelessly losing Sam's place as he slammed it shut.

“What the hell Dean?” Sam snapped. “I was reading that.”

“For two weeks, you’ve been doing nothing but reading. If it isn’t one of the damn books in the bunker, it’s online with some obscure Wicca community on the internet. You aren’t eating. You aren’t sleeping. Hell, when was the last time you even showered? I’ve tried to be patient Sam, but enough is enough.”

“I am so sorry this has been so hard for you,” Sam responded, adding more sarcasm in his tone than was strictly necessary. “Now give me the book back, I think I found a possible – “

“There is no possible Sam.” Dean threw the book against the wall, where it hit with a heavy thud. “There is no way. There is no changing you back to an Alpha, and the sooner you realize it, the better for everyone.”

“Is that an order Alpha?” Sam asked, rising to his feet so he could tower over Dean. “I’m supposed to forget who I really am or else?”

“This Sam,” Dean said, waving his hand to indicate Sam’s entire body. “This is who you really are. You are tearing yourself apart by denying it, and watching you struggle – you are my other half Sam. Please just accept this so we can figure out a way to make this work.”

“I can’t,” Sam responded through gritted teeth. “I can’t. I am not supposed to be, this, this weak, useless thing.”

Dean barked a laugh. “There is nothing weak or useless about you, Omega or not.” Dean held out his hand to Sam. “Come sit with me and talk. We haven’t talked since the – since everything went down. Talk to me and eat your sandwich and if you want to go back to research after that, I won’t stand in your way.”

Sam took the proffered hand. Dean’s hand was warm and rough, and Sam could feel his body calming just by that touch. He had been denying himself this, denying Dean this too but it had to be that way – because to give in, to admit defeat would be – who he was would be gone forever.

“Okay,” Dean said, once they were sitting side by side on the couch, closer than they used to sit but not actually touching. “I hate what they did to you. If I could hunt every one of them down and send them fucking back to here they came from, I would. But maybe banning them to Wisconsin was punishment enough.”

Sam couldn’t stop a small grin. Once they had made it back to the bunker, Dean had made it crystal clear that if he ever saw any of the others again, it wouldn’t end well. They had packed up and left the same day. Sam knew Dean wanted revenge on them, but it wasn't going to happen. Maybe if they had been willing to involve the police but nobody, especially Sam, was willing to do that, so they just skulked off. Only Mom and occasionally Cas remained in the bunker and they were both tiptoeing around the newly mated pair. Sam had asked for Cas’ help in turning him back, but Cas had simply informed Sam that there was no way to do that, that this wasn’t something his angel powers could fix, and that Sam didn’t need fixing anyway. Sam was fine just the way that he was. Sam didn’t talk to Cas three days after that pronouncement.

“But Sam,” Dean continued, and his hand opened, asking if Sam wanted to hold it and Sam after a moment of hesitation, grabbed hold. “Of the two of us, you were always the roll-with-the-punches type of guy. You never were the swelled up full of himself, looking for a fight type of Alpha that maybe I was when I was drunk.”

“Or sober. Or always,’ Sam responded, and his head just laid itself on Dean’s shoulder without his say so, but it felt nice.

“Okay, fair. But you were never that way, I know you liked being Jess’ Alpha. I know you liked having the strength to take down the monsters and save people, but Sam you are still like 8 feet tall and still can take down any monster stupid enough to get in your path. I just don’t understand why the freak out.”

“Wouldn’t you freak out” Sam asked without raising his head. He had somehow scooted closer to Dean. “If it happened to you??”

“Hell yeah,” Dean responded with a chuckle. “But sooner or later, I would have to accept it because even those assholes admitted – there is no way to change back. Once they changed someone to an Omega over there, they were Omega for always. I just hate watching you in pain, trying to fix something that can’t be fixed, and I don’t understand why you are fighting this so hard.”

“I don’t want to be – I don’t want this,” Sam mumbled, faced pressed into Dean’s warmth so his words came our garbled, but Dean still understood.

“I know. But it is what it is and if you can just accept it, we can figure this out. You know I would never hurt you, never ask you to do anything you didn’t want to, I wouldn’t keep you from hunting or stop you if you wanted to quit hunting. You are so anxious about something, I can feel it in the air. You are a smart kid Sam, always have been. I know you know there is no way to change you back. So, can you tell me what really is bothering you?"

Sam was practically in Dean’s lap now as both of Dean’s arms were around him, pulling him in impossibly closer. His body was pulsing with need. For two weeks he had denied himself this, denied Dean this and for a moment he couldn’t remember why.

“Can you stop me from going into heat?” Sam lifted his head up to ask. “Because – I can’t be this whiny needy thing that begs for you, needs your knot like I need air. I can’t be that Dean.”

But even as he said the words, his body was clamoring for more of Dean’s touch. His skin itched with need and suddenly the normal clothes he insisted on wearing (he had torn the Omega clothes to shreds before putting them in the garbage) were too tight, too restrictive, too much.

“You are about to go into heat, aren’t you?” Dean asked gently, running his fingers through Sam’s hair. “I have been sensing it for days. Your scent has changed.”

“I think I’ve been holding it off through sheer willpower,” Sam admitted and then fuck it all, he moved his leg to the other side of Dean and straddled his lap. “But now – now it’s here and all I want is – “

Sam lowered his head, claiming Dean’s lips in a hard, demanding kiss and he could feel Dean’s body tensing as he his tongue forced its way into Sam’s mouth. One moment they were devouring each other, and the next Sam was picked up and unceremoniously dumped on the couch.

“What the hell?" Sam asked.

“The hell is that you just told me you don’t want this and now you are – “ Dean rubbed his hand across his face. “If you want me to leave the bunker I will. There are things we can buy, things that can help you through this.”

“I don’t want a fake knot Dean,” Sam snarled back. “I want you. I thought you wanted me too. Here I am, giving into my Omeganess and you want me to shove a piece of plastic up my ass?”

Dean stood up and took a few more steps away before speaking. “No, I want to shove my dick down your ass so far you won't be able to walk straight for a week. But until the heat totally takes us both under, we need to talk. Because five minutes ago, you didn't even want to be an Omega.”

Sam found his lower lip sticking out and quickly sucked it back in. “It’s not that I don’t want to be – I mean, I don’t know what I want.”

"Precisely." Dean sighed and picked up the untouched sandwich. "Take a cold shower Sam, figure out what the hell you want. Whatever you decide, I'll be here." Dean walked to the doorway, turning around so that he was facing Sam. "If it matters at all, you and me – I would like to find out a way to make it work. It's not what I thought our life would be, but when has our life ever been - normal? All I know is - I want you. As my brother, as my lover, as my mate, and yes - even as the other parent of my children. I want it all, but I'll take what I can get."

Before Sam could respond, Dean had left the room.

The room felt lonely without Dean and it was all that Sam could do not to run after him. Instead he made his way to the closet bathroom and shut and locked the door.

He was an Omega.

Even after two weeks, it was hard to get his mind around that. In those two weeks, his body had finished its transformation and as Sam watched himself undress in front of the full-length mirror on the back of the bathroom door, it was like looking at a stranger.

Still tall. But his shoulders and chest were no longer broad. His waist had shrunk. He took a deep breath and forced himself to keep looking. His waist was smaller, but his hips seemed to have expanded.

He picked up his cock with one hand, forcing himself to look at it. It had shrunk by at least 3 inches from its normal 8. Skinny, like the rest of him. Smooth.

He hated to touch it. He hated for Dean to touch it. He just wanted – he wanted -

He let it go, watched as it flopped back down.

It was a stranger's body.

But it was all cosmetics. If it was just his appearance that changed - maybe it wouldn't be so scary. But he had changed in more ways than that - he wasn't near as strong (though a few rounds with the punching bag assured him that he still had some power behind his punches). The jeans he insisted on wearing felt rough against his skin, itchy. And of course, there was the slick.

And the need.

Every night, every night since they left that football field, Sam had laid in bed and ached for Dean. He felt a pull he hadn't felt since Jess. A desire so strong that he had to grip the bed in order to keep himself anchored there.

He wanted Dean with every fiber of his body, and that scared him. And he knew that despite his protests, despite hours and hours of researching a "cure", that he had already accepted that he was now an Omega.

And that scared him more.

Sam lifted his eyes up, so he was staring into his reflection. This is who he was. This is who they were. And he could accept it now or he could be a coward and let the heat take him under and be forced to accept him then.

He might be an Omega, but he had never been a coward.

Sam turned away from his reflection and turned on the shower.


	7. Chapter 7

 

 

 

Sam found Dean in his bedroom. Dean was lying across the bed, flipping through the channels of his television when Sam entered the room. Sam sat down in the chair beside the bed.

"I hate that they did this to me,” Sam began, as Dean sat up. "I feel so - every day I feel violated and I feel wrong and I feel lost."

"Sam-" Dean started, but Sam held out his hand and Dean fell silent.

"But I don't hate it, the being an Omega part. I thought I would - I still think I should. But I have loved you since I was old enough to know what love was. I have looked up to you all my life. I have needed you beside me always. And now - I'm going to find a way to deal with all this, and I think I can, with your help."

"Anything you need,” Dean told him, scooting over so that there was space for Sam on the bed.

Sam gratefully sat beside him, inhaling his scent, letting his scent cover him, feeling himself want, feeling himself get hard. "I want you to know this isn't my heat talking, it's me. What I need is - this." Sam pressed his hand against Dean's cock and smiled at Dean's corresponding hitch.

“No, we need to talk. And then we can – “ Dean looked down at Sam crotch and audibly gulped when he saw the bulge there. “God Sam, you aren’t making this easy for me.”

“I don’t want easy,” Sam replied, pulling up and off his shirt. “I want hard.”

“Wait. Wait a fucking minute. Stop what you are doing and wait,” Dean stated, a bit of Alpha order creeping in his voice and Sam’s movements stilled. “So suddenly you aren’t afraid of your heat? Afraid to be turned into – what did you call it? – a drooling, helpless mess?”

“I’m pretty sure those aren’t the words I used,” Sam declared, tossing his shirt onto the floor. “I’ve been so afraid of this – I need to find out that I can get through it and still be – still be me.”

“Okay,” Dean retorted, eyes tracking as Sam stretched, arms over his head, what stomach muscles he still had in his slim waist taut. “And if I get you pregnant?”

Sam halted all movement. Of course, he knew that was a possibility, but –

Hell, he was old. Older than any turned Omega ever, as far as he knew. He was probably too old to get pregnant. Heck, who knew if he had a uterus anyway? Turner wasn’t exactly a trusty source on that score.

But if he could, if he did, if they did-

“Then we deal with it together.” Sam laid down, his head on the pillow, he bent his knees bent and then he splayed them. “Now come ravish me before I find another Alpha to-“

He got no further before six feet one inch of tense muscle was on top of him, Dean’s hands on his hips, Dean’s mouth on his, Dean’s body pinning him down.

Maybe heats wouldn’t be so bad after all.


	8. Chapter 8

 

****

 

**Five months later**

“Move, I gotta pee.” Sam pushed Dean’s body, which was half covering his and Dean groaned.

“Again?”” Dean asked, reluctantly rolling away.

Sam scooted to the end of the bed and then hoisted himself and his growing girth to his feet. “Your kid likes to torture me almost as much as you do.”

Sam could hear Dean’s chuckle as he walked to the bathroom and took care of business. The baby stilled, probably going back to a satisfied sleep now that he had made his daddy move.

Sam made his way back to the bed, where Dean was lying flat on his back watching him. He made it halfway into the bed before Dean grabbed him, flipped him, so that Sam was on bottom. Sam reached his upper body up, always wanting to be closer to Dean.

“God, seeing you like this.” Dean looked at Sam, eyes flickering to his swollen belly and back up so that green eyes were staring into hazel. “So beautiful, carrying my child, the way your body fits with mine it makes me feel – “

“Grateful? Loved?” Sam asked, reaching one hand over Dean’s neck. “Mine?”

“Horny,’ Dean responded, and then his lips claimed Sam, swallowing Sam’s laughter as their bodies strained to get closer.

Life wasn’t what he expected, at times he still felt like he was trapped in a body that was not his. He was living a life that wasn’t supposed to be his but as Dean’s hands went to his hips and Dean’s body pressed against the swell of Sam’s stomach, Sam didn’t care.

Sam was only wearing pajama bottoms, but he had learned from experience to get anything that he was wearing below the waist off before the slick ruined them and he wiggled out of them as Dean kissed him. Dean kissed hard, there was teeth and tongue and he stole Sam's breath away every time they made out. He barely kicked the pajamas to the floor before the slick started.

"I can smell you,” Dean said, lifting his swollen lips from Sam's equally red, raw ones. "You smell so damn good."

Sam blushed, and Dean's chuckle was pleased. He lifted himself up so that he could turn Sam around. Sam willing went, being sure to wiggle and squirm and push against Dean's groan with every movement of his limbs.

"If you keep this up, I'm going to skip the foreplay and go right into the main event," Dean warned, as his fingers traced over Sam's hole.

"Good. I'm sleepy,” Sam responded, but he was grinning as he said it. "I need you to get on with it before I fall back asleep."

Dean snorted, and then stuck three fingers in at once. "Awake yet?” he asked as he wiggled the fingers instead, unerringly finding Sam's prostate and ruthlessly pushing against it.

"Fuck,” Sam responded, body squirming anew but this time in pure need. He could feel the slick pulsing out between Dean's fingers as Dean pressed against that sensitive spot and wiggled his fingers inside.

Dean reached under him, stroking Sam's cock as he continued to press inside. "I bet I can make you come just like this." He said to Sam, as his fingers continue to press, and his hand began to stroke harder. "I bet I can make you come like this and then make you come untouched on my knot. What do you say Sam? Do you want to come for me?"

Dean leaned over Sam, and Sam could feel Dean's lips on his mating mark, could feel Dean's tongue as he tasted the skin there and Sam's orgasm over took him, coating Dean's fingers with come as even more slick coated Dean's fingers that were deep inside him.

"That's my good boy,” Dean praised as his hands left Sam's body. Sam would have protested, but he felt boneless and he felt himself drifting.

That is until the whole of Dean's cock was thrust inside him with one powerful push. Sam gasped as Dean pulled on his hips, pulling him up.

"There you are,” Dean stated, as he began quick, short thrusts inside of him. "Now, I've got your attention."

Sam hummed as Dean found a good pace, hitting Sam's prostate with every second or third thrusts.

Sam could feel himself get hard again. There were parts about being an Omega he still didn't like, parts that he damned near hated, but the sex part - the sparks he got every time Dean was near, the way Dean filled him up so perfectly, the way that sweet spot felt when hit just right, and the fact that without a knot, his recovery time was nil and he was already hard again, already near his second orgasm. That part was good, real damn good.

"Harder,” He managed to get out, his head almost flat against the bed, his body being owned in the best possible way, it was hard to talk. "Fuck me like you mean it."

"Remember,” Dean said, as he pulled Sam's hips so that Sam was forced to go to his knees. "You asked for this."

The bed rocked with Dean's thrusts, hell Sam wouldn't be surprised if they were making the floor shake. Each thrust went deep, pressure was building within them both, Sam could feel the knot catch and break free, catch and be forced in. Dean's hands gripped his hips harder, and he was biting into Sam's shoulder, right over Sam's mating mark and Sam could feel his balls draw up a second time and -

He whited out, this orgasm hit so hard. He could feel the knot catch again and there was a shove and it was inside, and Dean was coming deep inside him, filling him up just right.

Dean collapsed against Sam's back and after a minute of drifting Sam made a noise of protest.

"You're so heavy,” Sam complained, as he tried to wiggle his way out from under Dean, which was a very hard thing to do the way that they were tied.

"I'm not heavy. I’m your brother,” Dean replied, as he maneuvered them until they were on their sides, Dean wrapping his free arm around Sam's waist.

"You are such an idiot." Sam could feel the tendrils of sleep reaching for him and he closed his eyes as he snuggled against his brother.

He was asleep before he heard the reply, safe and loved and home in his mate's arms.

THE END

 


End file.
